


The Perfect Sunday Afternoon

by TheLightFury



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consesual Touching, Do not post to another site, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione Enjoys Pansy's Touch Greatly, Mild Language, Nail Painting, No Sex in the Fic Though, Non Sexual Touching, Sapphic, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 10:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightFury/pseuds/TheLightFury
Summary: Hermione and Pansy enjoy a chilled afternoon together, complete with snark and domestic fluff!





	The Perfect Sunday Afternoon

Sunday afternoons were made for this. 

Dwindling, weak, winter sunlight filtered through the window as Hermione turned another page of the leather tome she was reading. The lingering smell of a roast dinner caressed her nose as the sounds of Pansy humming along to the wireless floated gently to her ears. As the open fire crackled to her side, and a warm blanket covered her, keeping the sharp, chilly air at bay, peace and contentment flooded her veins. There was very little better than relaxing with a good book, a full stomach, in a cozy cottage with the woman you loved.

“Give me your feet,” Pansy materialised beside her, demanding as ever.

“What?”

“Give me your feet!” Pansy repeated, waiting for a minute with an expectant look on her face.

“No! They’re nice and warm!”

But apparently that was an unacceptable answer to the Slytherin who gave a dramatic sigh, and pulled the blanket off her feet with a flourish. 

“Hey!” Hermione protested, cool air creeping up her legs as Pansy settled herself on the end of the sofa. She didn’t dare pull away though; Pansy was wicked and relentless in the pursuit of something she wanted.

“Oh hush you stupid tart,” she murmured, in a remarkably affectionate tone. 

In just a few seconds Hermione’s socks had been unceremoniously yanked off, sending a light shiver over her dark skin. Pansy’s dark eyes merely focused more intently on her toes, pulling out a bottle of nail polish as she did so. 

“Can you at least cast a warming cha-”

“Do learn when to shut up,” Pansy interrupted. Hermione glared at her partner. 

“Whore.” 

“Aw, thanks babe!” The wretch had the audacity to blow her a kiss. 

_ Of bloody course.  _ Resigning herself to her fate, Hermione merely rolled her eyes as she returned to her book. But moments later, as a tingling sensation began creeping up from her toes, she remembered exactly why she let the bint torture her. 

With every stroke of the brush, every gentle but firm touch from Pansy’s delicate hands, light, flittering tingles skittered across Hermione’s skin, and warmth pooled in her stomach. They set her heart a-flutter, easing tension away with every gentle stroke, reducing her to putty under the SLytherin’s hands.

It was absolutely  _ delightful _ .

Carefully marking her place in the book, a happy sigh escaped her, as she surrendered to the euphoric feeling. Pansy merely sniggered.

“Anyone would think I’m giving you the best goddamn shag of your life!” 

A vague reprimand about the Slytherin’s crude language flew through Hermione’s mind, but Pansy’s grip changed again, sending another shiver through her, chasing away the sentiment with another wave of pleasure. 

“Maybe later, this is too nice right now,” she sighed, touches and tickles sending ripples of joy through her. Pansy rolled her eyes, but leaned slightly further forward over Hermione’s nails. She didn’t even try to stop the happy hum that escaped her. 

“Anyway, you love that your touch affects me like this,” she murmured after a moment of silence, eyes slipping closed to enjoy the sensation more fully. No matter how often they touched, how much they hugged, or spooned, or caught each other in simple, tender kisses, Hermione always felt sparks at her lover’s touch, and promptly melted into a pile of goo. At one point in her life admitting that would have been almost unbearable. She was glad she was past that now...

Pansy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘touch starved twat’, but she didn’t have the mental capacity to point out-  _ again _ !- that she wasn’t touch starved at all. It was just that when she got focused on something she just… forgot… about other things. It wasn’t her fault that she struggled to turn off her hyper-focus and couldn’t recognise when she needed to stop… Thankfully, since moving in with her, Pansy often did that for her, stopping her with a simple stroke of fingers over her neck. It was one of the many reasons she loved the woman. No matter how much of a pain she was.

As the sun moved across the sky and the fire continued to crackle, Pansy silently moved from her feet to her hands, and bliss hummed happily through Hermione’s veins. 

“I love you,” she whispered, seeking out Pansy’s eyes through the woman’s silky, black bob. Pansy’s despairing sigh had giggle bubbling from Hermione’s lips. 

“Love you too, you soppy cow. Now shut up and let me finish your nails.” 

Yes, Sunday afternoons were definitely made for this. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Come find me on Tumblr! @april-thelightfury115


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